The other Mayfield (Will Byers X Reader)

008. a pirates treasure

"Hopper? What do you mean, Hopper?" I asked, frowning at the fear in Will's voice.

"I saw him... I think he's going to die," Will whispered, his hands gripping the edge of his bed.

My stomach tightened. Great. Just great. He's thinking the worst again, I thought to myself.

I took a deep breath. "Okay... well, Mike and I are going to get our sleeping bags and put them away while you make your bed. After that, we'll go see your mom." I tried to keep my voice calm, steady.

"O-okay," Will stammered, nodding.

We set to work, carefully folding our sleeping bags and tucking them under the bed while Will hesitated over the sheets. The quiet was heavy, broken only by the rustle of blankets.

"So... you guys ready to head out after this?" Mike said suddenly, his voice low but tense, glancing at Will. He wasn't teasing, just trying to break the tension without saying too much.

Will's eyes flicked toward me, and he shook his head slightly. "Yeah... soon," he murmured.

I shot Mike a look that said don't push it, and he seemed to get it, his gaze softening. There was no teasing, no joking, just the kind of quiet understanding that only came from a shared worry for Will.

Once our little tasks were done, I gestured toward the hallway. "All set. Let's go."

Will followed slowly, his eyes still shadowed with worry. Mike stayed close behind, keeping his hand near the doorknob as if he wanted to protect him from anything, or anyone, that might be waiting outside.

When we reached the living room, Joyce was sitting cross-legged on the floor, surrounded by Will's sketches and maps.

"Mom? Mom? Mom?" Will shook her, his voice urgent and trembling.

"Yeah... what is it, baby?" Joyce asked, finally looking at him.

"I saw him," Will said, his words barely above a whisper.

"Saw who, baby?" Joyce asked, her brows knitting together, a flicker of alarm in her eyes.

"Hopper... I think he's in trouble," Will whispered, voice cracking. "I think... I think he's going to die."

Joyce froze, her mouth slightly open, eyes wide.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Will was now hunched over the table, carefully scribbling another intricate vine drawing, the tip of his pencil moving almost obsessively across the page. His brow was furrowed in concentration, his small hands trembling slightly as he tried to capture the twisting, otherworldly patterns that seemed to haunt his mind.

"Hey, is this where you saw him?... Is this where you saw Hopper?" Joyce asked, leaning over the edge of the table, her eyes scanning the page with a mixture of concern and disbelief.

"I think so... yeah," Will muttered, his voice low, almost as if he feared saying it too loudly would make it real.

"Okay," Joyce replied, her voice soft but steady, and she crouched closer to the table, examining the lines with careful attention.

We all began moving around the room, searching for the next connection in Will's tangled web of drawings. The papers seemed to flow from one to another, creating a chaotic network that somehow held meaning only he could fully comprehend.

"Over here!" I yelled from the kitchen, my voice echoing slightly against the walls. Joyce and Mike rushed over, and I pointed at the spot on the wall. Carefully, she taped it to the wall next to the others, trying to maintain the continuity of the bizarre map.